


Curiosity Kills The Quill (But Not Really)

by SlashyUnicorn



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nipple Play, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashyUnicorn/pseuds/SlashyUnicorn
Summary: Slowly but surely, Peter took the steps so that he stood near the other. Right. He was totally gonna do this. Just like what Drax said, a man never take his words back. Either he went through this or it'll forever haunt his dreams. "Okay, first, don't freak out.""Why would I—""Sssh. Just listen." He gestured 'silence, please' with his finger. "I need you to let me touch it." Hands flailing to the general direction of Drax."You want to touch...me?" He said incredulously. "Our skin touched each other's almost everyday. We trained together, fight and eat side by side, that time you lend me your music device and our fingers touched—""Yeah, yeah, I get your point." He paced. Ah, shit this was harder than he thought it'd be. But he couldn't let those thoughts distracted him further. "Not exactly skin, Drax. I want to touch your, well, do you see where my hand is pointing?" He said, frustrated. Drax can't be that dense, right?He followed the way the finger point, tracing the straight line from Peter's hand to his body. "My...chest? Why would you want to touch my chest?""God! Why must you torture me like this?"





	Curiosity Kills The Quill (But Not Really)

"Quill, watch out!" Peter heard behind him.He ducked his head, barely missing an electric arrow that flew by, nearly burrowing a hole right through his head. "You moron! Pay attention! Or else it'll be  _my_  head you risk next."

In the background there was Nebula, hatefully glaring at Peter for making Gamora save his life. Again. For the hundredth time. It was a breath of fresh air, actually. When was the last time someone was only trying to kill him figuratively by staring holes into his head?

She tagged along pretty often now, after whatever the hell that had happened in his father's (ugh) 'Cave of Corpses'. When he astonishingly asked Gamora about how the hell she was able to turn Nebula's instinct from killing  _her_  to pretty much  _everyone near her,_  she gave that mysterious smirk that reminded him why he fell for her all those months ago. "Just like what one of your proverb says." She somersaulted backwards, slicing two Kree warriors in the process. "A woman don't kiss and tell."

Was that supposed to mean something? Was there a hint somewhere and he missed them horribly? It was hard doing the over thinking stuff while avoiding the sharp edge of Kree's spear, so he inwardly shrugged and decided to forget it.  _Eh, whatever. Probably nothing._

They were fighting on one of the Kree's colony, which was, whose fault was it again? Oh, right,  _Rocket_ . Fucking smartass raccoon with an obsessive-compulsive instinct to steal freaking everything. Hard enough to slip away in here, since there were a few Ronan sympathisers still lurking around. If anyone thought no one would ever come knocking on the door with their swords or giant hammer, they were the dumbest person in the entire galaxy. In Rocket's defence, which was starting to not sound that bad, the thing he stole  _was_  a sweet weapon. The decorative handle gleaming in the light of rocket's fire blast, with a power-shot so powerful, it was equal to the power of a bazooka attached to the barrel of a handgun, without the kickback of using one. Light. Powerful. One of the best goddamn guns you could get.

Had a pretty good plan too. Would've probably snatched it himself, he thought, if he didn't tripped (again) to the giant tree's motherfucking vines. Like what he did now.

"Son of a bitch! Groot! I told you not to—" 

The words stopped when someone smashed into him, saving him from another blast made by Rocket. He swore, sometimes he felt like that little shit was doing it on purpose. "Peter, are you injured?" To his left, a pair of blue eyes was looking all over his body intently. He was just checking for injury, but Peter couldn't help but fidgeted nervously. Those eyes again. They were actually quite nice. Maybe he could swim in those eyes forever, and—

"Peter?" 

He blinked, and oh god, that face was close. Too close. Yelping in surprise, he quickly pushed the other's body away. "Haven't you ever heard of the personal space?"

But Drax didn't immediately answer him, which made Peter noticed the way the guy gasped softly in surprise. When he looked down, sure enough, the palm of his hands accidentally made themselves comfortable in both of Drax's pectorals. He could feel his nipples slowly perking up, the nub hardening under the pads of his fingers, just because of a slight move on them. "Fuck. Sorry, sorry!" He held his hand in a placating manner, willing himself not to flinch at every move Drax made. "Totally an accident!."

They stood in an awkward silence. Or at least awkward for him, since Drax couldn't seem to ever comprehend awkwardness. Shit. He could never stand something that was too quiet, but looking right at the other's face seemed awkward, so he decided to look anywhere but that, eyes landing eventually down  _below_  (with  _that_  kind of sound? His healthy red-blooded male brain  _wondered_ , okay?), and  _holy shit._  Drax was possibly enjoying his accidental attention  _a bit_  too much. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise. "How the hell do you survive fights if your nipples react that way every time someone touches them?"

Curse his mouth. The answer  _might_  be something he didn't want to hear. Ever. It could be something weird (and knowing Drax, it probably was) or he might rage over and horribly maimed him, but  _the code_  stated that when curiosity was there, it needs satisfaction. 

(Alright he made up that one bit about the code, but anyone will agree. Right?)

Either that, or because little Quill there starting to show a little interest in a weird, weird way. 

Drax ended up growling at him instead. "I told you my nipples are sensitive." He practically marched towards him, either to kill him or just land a really painful punch. He closed his eyes in defeat. Oh well, at least he won't die by some boring cause, after all. Like, slipping on his own bodily fluids and hitting his head on the ground. That'd be embarrassing.

"Peter!" Rocket snapped both of them out of The Moment, as Peter called it. Talk about saving him at the last possible moment. "Are you two crazy? What're you doing back there? We're in the middle of intergalactic shoot-out and you two decide  _now's_  the time to get cosy?." A shot to the head, a shot to the knee, and the archer was down. "Quit flirting, and get your asses here to help!" He said, head-shooting five people in a row.

"I ain't flirting with anyone." He grumbled. "Quit your bitching, Rocket, just shoot." Moments later, Drax finally grunted in agreement, throwing the first Kree his saw on the ground with enough force to break a regular human's neck.

He had to admit though, lately he had been a little...distracted by something. Can't stop thinking about  _them_ , and the possibilities they held. He fixed his coat to cover more of the front of his body while behind the cover. Anyone finding out he had a hard on in the middle of a battle with Drax of all people? Not just the Kree that were going to run away from him.

 _But_ , bad guys certainly won't wait for him to jerk off in quiet space, so he kept shooting all his might, ignoring the eyes that he felt stared a little too sharp at the back of his head.

After the battle, when they were looting and collecting sweet, sweet booty from the alien's stash, Drax walked and stood beside him, silently.

Creepy.

The man didn't have eyebrows, sure, but his eyes expressed a lot and now, the way he inclined his head made Peter remember the golden retriever he used to have back home, confused about why Peter get to eat the delicious cereal and won't let  _him_  have any.

"Is something on your mind, my friend?"

He forced his eyes to look up, trying to smile normally instead of the grimace threatening to come out. "Nope." Picking up the biggest gun he'd seen and turning it over in his hands. "Just the usual murder and mayhem. Killed the bad guy, saved the galaxy again, collecting the treasure." He patted Drax's shoulder. "I'm good, really."

"They why does I detect a slightly higher perspiration on your face and the odd facial movement? Your smile is not like the usual either."

Peter shrugged. "Just adrenaline, Drax. Don't worry about it." He grinned. "Now excuse me, I saw a really cool shiny thing on the other side of this ship that I  _absolutely_  must have." 

He didn't run away, alright? _It's called strategic retreat._

\---------

He tried to avoid Drax after many,  _many_  more disaster had happened. From spilling his drink to an alien ambassador, to almost starting a civil war because he didn't pay attention the first time they explained the rules. To be fair, all this wasn't Drax's fault, really (most of the time anyway). Just that when his stupid brain caught up on  _that_  one particular thing, he started noticing others, like his eyes, his intricate designs on his body, his adorable (and weird) sense of humour. Hell, even his ridiculously muscled biceps. You could play jungle gym on those biceps. He cleared his throat in his mind. Not that Peter  _would_  but—oh what the hell. He totally would.

Yep. He was spiralling downwards to the pits of lustful hell. God help him.

But dammit, it was hard to steer clear of him. That guy was  _everywhere_. Like he followed Peter, literally, anywhere he went. Probably, since a couple of months later, he nearly ran through  Drax's solid chest and hurt himself in the process of coming out of his own room. That was it. "What is  _wrong_  with you?"

When he tried for indifference, Peter honest-to-god almost laughed, what with how bad that was. Anyone who knew Drax happened to know he can never lie for shit, not even when his own life depended on it. "Whatever do you mean, Quill? My room is right next to yours. Is it that unusual to see me standing near the door?" Since when did he think anyone be fooled by it?

"True, but what  _unusual_  is you blocking the exit of my goddamn room!"

Blinking in surprise, he stepped back, finally letting Peter make his way to the dining room. "You are angry."

Peter snorted. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." He said, stomping his feet purposely with every step. It was justified, he wasn't being childish. 

He had trailed behind Peter like a puppy on the way, but now he moved in front of him, though not enough to block the room again, frowning heavily at Peter's face. "Who is this Sherlock and why are you calling me by his name?" Drax sounded...jealous? The heck?  

"It's a figure of speech, Drax. Sherlock is—" he closed his eyes. "You know what? It's late, and I'm too tired for this kind of conversation." He hadn't even ate anything since last night, and the diplomatic trip to Xandar was making him more irritated. He opened the fridge, pulling out a slice of leftover pizza and putting it on the heating device that was definitely not space microwave. Turned out there was a pizza delivery service in even space. How cool was that?

The device, per usual when the universe seemed against him, malfunctioned at the wrong time. "Oh, come on!" He banged at the small door.

"Do you need any assistance?" Drax moved as if to help. His hand almost touching Peter's shoulder before he roughly pulled it away. "I can manage fine, thank you very much." 

He gave Peter a smile. Any other time, Peter might relent and call this whole thing off and calmly went back to his room while grumbling about his own self-control. But this time, Drax's placating gesture instead fuelled his stress-addled mind to be more of an a-hole. "It is no trouble at all." Drax moved closer, failing to notice sarcasm as usual. "I can—"

The closeness appeared to be too much for Peter. "Oh for fuck's sake, Drax." He threw his hands up. "Quit following me around."

Everything went...quiet. The only sound he could hear was his own ragged breath, trying to calm his own heart that beats a little faster than he'd like. "Do you hate me so, Peter?" Drax looked unusually docile with his head turned down, mouth forming an unhappy frown. "Have I done something that you detest so much that you no longer want to be in a close proximity with me?"

Ah, damn.  _Now_  he felt bad. "What? No, of course not, Drax." He patted the man's shoulder awkwardly. "You're cool, man. Don't sweat about it."

He raised his head, looking back at Peter straight in his eyes. "It does increase my rate of perspiration sometimes. The idea of you no longer thought of me as friend is somewhat...unsettling."

Peter looked back at him, surprised. "You thought about me that much?" That was—it was almost touching, in a way.

"Of course. You are one of my closest friend that hold potential for more."

"Wait, what potential—"

Drax was standing awkwardly beside the table. "You've avoided me." He cut right through Peter's question. 

He winced inwardly. "No, I'm not." Peter said, a little petulantly.

"Yes, you are. Did you think I would not notice it?"

 _Yes. But apparently you're not as dense as I thought you'd be._  "Well, let me tell you it's just your imagination playing tricks on you. "

He smirked. "You know I could do this conversation longer than you could."

Peter sighed. "And you probably gonna literally do that the entire 24 hours too." He took the heated pizza slice out of the now-working device and quickly finished it, wiping his dirty hand on his already-stained shirt.

Suddenly, he got an idea. A risky idea, but whatever, this one was his last resort against the onslaught of his weird fixation of Drax and vise versa. He span to face Drax, smirking in confidence. Drax just looked back at him warily. "Tell you what, let's bet. I'll answer the question that you want then. Sounds fair?"

After contemplating it for a while, he nodded. "Very well. What kind of things are we going to bet on?"

"The right make the loser do whatever the winner wants to. Excluding a few things like death and injury, of course."

"Sounds reasonable enough."

He took out his stack of cards, which was similar to Earth's poker, but played by almost every single species in most of the large port. It was, weirdly enough, also called Poker. Or could be just his translator that was malfunctioning. "You play poker?"

"I do." Drax smiled a little too confidently. "You will lose, Quill. I was a master of this kind of game, back in my planet." 

Peter smiled slyly.  _Yeah, but I bet you played it fair and square._  "Don't be too confident, big man, or you'll be swallowing your own words."

His lips frowned in confusion. "How can words be swallowed? They are incorporeal."

Peter face palmed. "Let's just get this over with."

 ---------

"I...I lost."

Peter laughed. It was as easy as taking a candy out of a baby, Peter almost felt guilty about it. Almost. "Hell yeah. Completely obliterated."

Drax thwack his fists on the table. "I demand a rematch!"

"That's not how a bet work." He raised his eyebrow. "Either you win and get all, or you're a loser and pay."

"I do not like losing."

"Your problem. You back out, I'd still count that as a loss. You won't do what I ask, I'd say you're a wuss, sorry, coward, forever."

Finally, he sagged into the chair, sighing in defeat. "A man should never take back his words. I apologise." He looked back at Peter's eyes, looking determined like a man ready to face his punishment. "Now what would you have me do?"

Slowly but surely, Peter took the steps so that he stood near the other. Right. He was totally gonna do this. Just like what Drax said, a man never take his words back. Either he went through this or it'll forever haunt his dreams. "Okay, first, don't freak out."

"Why would I—"

"Sssh. Just listen." He gestured 'silence, please' with his finger. "I need you to let me  _touch it_ ." Hands flailing to the general direction of  Drax.

"You want to touch...me?" He said incredulously. "Our skin touched each other's almost everyday. We trained together, fight and eat side by side, that time you lend me your music device and our fingers touched—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get your point." He paced. Ah, shit this was harder than he thought it'd be. But he couldn't let those thoughts distracted him further. "Not exactly skin, Drax. I want to touch your, well, do you  _see_  where my hand is pointing?" He said, frustrated. Drax can't be that dense, right?

He followed the way the finger point, tracing the straight line from Peter's hand to his body. "My...chest? Why would you want to touch my chest?"

"God! Why must you torture me like this?" He raised his hands in the air, cursing whatever god that exist out there, the Asgardian, Olympian, or even another Celestial. "Peter? Are you sick? Who are you talking to?" Drax looking up and around, baffled.

"No one." He sighed. "Alright, let me get this out. I need you to let me touch your...nipples."

Oh, great, Drax definitely didn't look pleased. "I told you, they're sensitive."

"Yeah, I know, it's just—" he nervously fidget. "Curse my curiosity, alright, but I wanna know how sensitive they are, and I can't just get that out of my head, so please don't kill me?"

"Why? Do you intend to exploit my weakness for your future references?" he crossed his arms in front of his chest as if it'll provide more protection.

"What? No. I just can't help but thinking about it for the past couple of months. I know, focusing on the wrong thing, yada yada yada when you're supposed to be focusing on the job. But aren't  _you_  a little bit curious to test the limit?"

"Of my nipples?" He said, incredulously.

"Back home on Earth, I know some people do have a really _,_  and by that I mean  _really_  sensitive nipples." He shrugged. "I guess I just want to know how bad it is."

Drax looking at Peter, as if calculating the pros and cons of it, and nodded in finality. "I suppose it could not hurt to let you touch it."

Peter almost whooped in joy. He took his enjoyment from too many weird stuff, lately. "Alright, I'm gonna start slow, okay? Don't need you to pound me to the ground with your big fist in surprise."

He stood still in front of the dining table, movingly stiffed as a block. "Do not worry about my control, Quill. Just do what you wanted. And quick."

Hesitantly, he moved his fingers towards one nipple. It was grey-coloured, just like the rest of Drax's skin, with one red line of his markings passing through the middle of the soft nub. His skin was rough and thick, likely to prevent the injury from his many enemies. But the thing that he didn't notice before, was that the nipples were surprisingly softer.

A hitch was heard when his pointer finger first made contact, tracing the outer circle with gentle stroke. Drax shivered with every single brush his fingertips made. He rubbed it teasingly, torturing him with soft barely-there touch that made his big body shook, gritting his teeth like it'll prevent his moan from going out. A gentle tweaked, however, made him groaned out loud. Peter resist the temptation to look around. They could get caught any minute here. Exposed. That thought instead drive his curiosity further.

Meanwhile, his other hands moved towards the other nipple, pinching it really lightly. Both nipples perked up with the act.

"Have you quench your curiosity yet?" He said shakily. Peter was about to stop, and said yes, the nipples  _were_  sensitive enough. But he could see they way that goosebumps already started on Drax's skin, the way his hips leaned towards the bolted diner table, spine hunched slightly as if wanting to get away from the touch the he enjoyed at the same time. The way his body now soft and pliant under Peter's ministration.

And he barely even started.

Another push on the rigid flesh made pulled a groan out of Drax. His voice pitching higher than his usual deep growl. 

Peter kept on encircling it, switching constantly between the blunt nails scrapping lightly on the side of the nub, gentle, continuous circle, and playing the tip of them between his thumb and forefingers. 

The big guy was honestly shaking right now, leaning back fully on the table. Both his palm gripped the edge of the table, and the metal bend a little from the force he was using to hold himself upright.

There was another thing he had always wanted to try, and he might not get another chance in the future, so he pushed Drax's body lightly on to the table and finally, finally, put his mouth on those erect flesh, mounting it to his heart's content. Drax pounded lightly on the table, arching his back when Peter ran his tongue hard on the lines passing the skin. Starting from the right nipples, and then keep tracing the lines to Drax's chest, ending up on his left one, and biting it with his teeth. The alien ended up keening high in pleasure, when breath ghosted over his leftover saliva, blowing hard on the sensitive nipple until Drax moaned with a weak " _Please_."

He ended up draping Drax all over the dining table then, spreading his legs and slotting his body nicely between them. Drax was...hard. Fuck,  _his friend_  was hard, hard cock nudging his own half-hard one. Peter was probably crossing over some lines here. He could feel the hardness when he slipped his hips between Drax's thighs hanging off the table. They trembled slightly, and little by little ended up around Peter's hips, as if unconsciously urging him to get closer. The worse thing was, he could feel the (not so) little guy down there answering excitedly in response.  _Bad. Down, boy._

What his body did instead was moving to grind against Drax's pelvis, pressing their clothed dick flushed together, still in the confined of their pants as he looked down in betrayal.

_Traitor._

When he went back to pounce at the nipples, he poured all his skill on the erect nub instead, uncaring of the sound of the table cracking from effort, sucking both of flesh simultaneously hard enough into the heat of his mouth. Drax's muscles rippled and twitches with the attention Peter gave. Biting hard at one time and soothing it with a peppering of small kiss, ignoring the keening sound and groan each one his action made in the process. 

That's when he heard the chocked moan, hearing the edge of the metal table finally bent under the pressure of the alien strength.

"Nngh."

Oh.  _Oh_. So that happened.

That sound, higher than he had ever heard Drax made, soft and shaky, together with the trembling of Drax's body, all burned into his brain forever. Replacing even the best jerk off material he had around his mind.

He felt wetness spreading from Drax's pants into his, and sure enough, when he look at Drax's crotch, it had a huge wet patch on front. From the way the cloth clung to his cock, Peter could see how massive his dick was, as it curved around to the left side, still seemingly spurted liquid in endless cycle.

"You...came. just from your nipples being played." He said in fascination. 

"Yes. I have told you how they cannot stand even the slightest onslaught." Drax grumbled. "Especially by your hand. They are really soft." He panted, still recovering from the high of his orgasm. Sighing in content, Drax gave a kiss on one of Peter's palm, and made the sensation around the human's heart intensified. "That." He breathed. "Was one of the best copulation I had in a long time."

Peter groaned. "Don't say that."

"Copulation?"

"Yeah, I mean, I didn't even touch your dick. Or put my dick anywhere in you. So it definitely  _didn't_  count as sex alright?"

"Why? Because there were no penetration involved? You still made me ejaculate with your hands and mouth."

"Agh." He put his hands on his ears. "You're banned forever from sexy talk. "

"Then maybe you should teach me about that 'sexy talk' even further." Then he kissed Peter hard on his mouth. Peter made a surprised sound. This definitely didn't go to a direction he wanted. Then again, what, did he think feeling up a guy won't end up with them  _not_  having sex?

Drax was surprisingly good at kissing. Demanding. Taking whatever he could get his tongue on Peter's mouth. Running his strong fingers with surprising gentleness on  his hair, feeling it up to his heart's content. Peter moaned. God, he hasn't felt this hot and bothered in a long time, he thought, as he kissed back with the same fervour. His tongue slipping further into Drax's mouth, the wet heat spreading from his mouth into his whole body, and he wrapped his fingers tighter into the other's biceps.

But when Drax's shoulder hit the surface of the table in a particular aggressive kiss, it seemed to snap Peter put of whatever the fuck they were doing.

"Why do you stop?" Drax gasped. Shit, he looked so hot like this. Face flushed a shade darker and eyes filled with heavy lust that made his cock hardening again in his pants.

"It's just." He stammered. "Um, inappropriate?" He had to make excuses. "We're bros, sort of, and uh, bros should stop touching one's bro when they're hard, or on this case came, or else they're not bros anymore. Get it?"

"No." He shook his head. "We are not, and will never be, brothers. No matter how much you want it, our DNA are too far apart for you and I to even be called the same species."

"Not what I meant." He cursed Drax's lack of society's understanding. "The point is, we're not like...that." He searched his head. "Romantically involved. Yeah, that's the words I was going for.  "Me and Gamora is, was, romantically involved."

Drax's head whipped up so fast it almost collided hard into his chin. That was probably not a pretty sight if that happened."Do you find me not suitable for a mate?" He barred his teeth. "Tell me what advantages she had over me, and I will give you a list of my species' advantages over hers."

He shook his head in panic. "No, no, you're both great. It's just that I never considered that you'd be attracted to me in that way."

Drax thought it over. "While it is true that you lack that crucial part of breeding for being a human male, you had the advantages of a more pleasing feature and facial hair."

"Wait what? You think my facial hair made me more pleasing than humanoid female?"  _Whoa, what the hell's going on?_

"It is." He ran his fingers through Peter's stubble. "Soft." He snuggled his cheek into them. "My species do not have hair follicles. I find that they are most fascinating, especially combined with your surprisingly soft skin."

"I, uh, Drax? Are you feeling me up?"

"Maybe." He smiled, trailing small kisses all the way from his jaw to his hair. "I would like to inform you as well that you are blessed with a natural talent of spontaneous battle strategy, which was important in our survival. I have then deemed you suitable for a potential mate."

Peter's eyes went wide in realisation of Drax's earlier speech. "But Gamora—" Him and Gamora no longer involved, per se, but Peter still wasn't ready with this knowledge that Drax wanted  _them_  to be together. That was too...weird. Even to his tolerance of weirdness in general.

"If you want Gamora as your mate, I am afraid it is already too late. She is too infatuated with Nebula already. In fact, they are both infatuated with each others."

"What—"

"I saw them share a kiss by the dock many months ago." Drax just calmly dropping the crucial information as if he was discussing the weather, for fuck's sake.

It was like something finally clicked on his brain. "So  _that_  what she meant." Goddammit, he had no chance from the start. "And you're telling me this  _now_? Why can't you say it when I was still horribly pining for her like maybe a month ago?"

"You looked like you would not care about much else, to be honest. Especially not from me."

Peter sighed. "Drax, stop using that phrase, you're  _always_  honest." He shook his head. "But they're sisters?." Technically not related though, but he just had to point that out.

"As you know, they are not related by blood. Is there a taboo from you came from about marrying one's family? In my planet, the object of your affection, who did not share your blood, has to be a part of your family first before you can mate with them. I already considered you my family. Therefore, the only thing to do was claiming you as my mate."

"Whoa, whoa. No one say anything about marriage." He quickly backed away, but was held firmly by Drax's strong legs, can't seem to escape. Didn't realise during this whole conversation, they were still enter twined on the freakin' dining table.

"Calm down, Peter. It is not marriage, not yet. As I know it, your species do have sex outside of  marriage, yes?"

"Yeah, but with their boyfriends or girlfriend. You know, lovers." he added, when Drax became confused.

"Ah." He nodded. "Do you not consider me worthy of the union, Peter Quill?"

"I—uh. I don't know, man—"

"Do you not lay awake at night, mind filled with the thoughts of us every single day as I did?"

"You did?" Both of Peter's eyebrows raised. "As I said, you are an attractive man, with an attractive set of skills. To not be attracted to you is simply foolish."

He supposed all those night thinking just about the alien's body, his unhealthy obsession about Drax's nipples was something to consider about. Peter didn't know why he didn't notice it before, but maybe all that hugs Drax offered might not be that platonic after all? There were too many occasion where this guy drifted too close, worry too much about him, or just simply unconsciously shifted himself between Peter and any kind of danger coming. And maybe it was all too obvious and he was just too dumb to notice. 

Sighing, he put his forehead on Drax's chest, admitting defeat. "Maybe you're right."

"I always am." He said a bit too smug, that bastard. Drax continued kissing him, and Peter let him, too tired and horny to do otherwise. But after a while, his hands wondered, and it touched Peter's cock from the outside of his pants. "Drax,  _no_."

He looked back at him like a kicked puppy. A big, sad, dejected puppy. "You do not wish to be my mate, after all? Do you still desire Gamora, even if she did not return your affection?" Ah. This guy obviously wore his heart in his (metaphorical)sleeves that it was almost...cute.

Oh look, he thought Drax was cute. Maybe Rocket was right. He  _was_  going insane.

Peter gave a quick kiss on Drax's lips, stroking his cheek in light affection while at it. The other seemed to melt into his touch, leaning his cheek more firmly into his fingers. He pulled away right before he managed to deepened it and taking away every shred of control he had. "Alright. Have to admit, you convinced me."

Drax's face lightened up. "I did?"

"Yep. In fact, starting to think this 'us' thing might not be so bad after all." He pushed at Drax's chest lightly, and the alien relented, uncrossing his legs and getting up from the table. He let himself be dragged by Peter towards the direction of his room. "Just. Not there. We did it once on the goddamn dinner table already." Peter groaned. "Fuck, Gamora is so gonna kill me if she finds out. Or Nebula. Or Rocket."

Drax snarled at that, looking fiercely protective. "If they wanted you dead, they have to go through  _me_."

Peter laughed weakly instead. "Please don't. If Gamora killed you, I won't have anyone who'll back me up on my argument with Rocket and that'll suck."

"Then you worry about them seeing us? Gamora and Nebula already did it on that same table. I saw them, with their hips joined—"

"Dude! Too much." He grimaced. There's no going back from  _that_  image.

They entered the room, Peter locking it with his personal code for good measure, although, if any of them wanted to get in, all they needed to do was hack it and voila, opened in under 5 minutes. "Let's continue here, yeah?" He pushed Drax to lie on his bed, straddling his hips and letting their body flushed together. "I like here better. "

"I suppose privacy will not hurt." Drax said, definitely not grumbling. He took a deep breath instead, burying his face on Peter's neck. "I can smell you everywhere. It is intoxicating."

"Then maybe I can show you more places where my smell is more...intense." he smirked, grinning his hips down.

Drax threw his head back, groaning and shamelessly grind his hips back. "I would not averse to that."

 ---------

They did it fit and proper, six ways to Sunday and all that jazz. He felt like death warmed over. He might as well  _be_  dead, with how many times they did it on every available surface in Peter's bedroom. Four fucking times in the past two hours. Jesus Christ. Never in his life he knew a man as muscular and big as this hulking mess could be  _that_  flexible. He was still dazedly amazed just by thinking about it.

He whined, tucking his head deeper into Drax's muscular chest. "I'm dying."

Drax moved his head to look at him. "You are being hyperbolic, yes? Look, I do understand human phrase of words." He looked pleased by that. "Unless your species has a certain weakness and dies easily by being overwhelmed with sex and you are now dying because of me." He tightened his arms around Peter a little. "Are you?"

Peter looked up, and since Drax genuinely looked horrified by that prospect, he sighed, giving a small kiss on his lips. "It's just a figure of speech. Don't worry about it."

He looked relieved. "In that case, should continue our intercourse for another round?"

Peter rolled over and hide beneath the blanked. "Hell no! We do that, and I'd  _literally_  die."

 ---------

When Rocket arrived in the kitchen, he stopped, nose sniffing around in distaste. "God, did someone do it on the kitchen? This place is for eating not screwing each other blind!"

"Is it masculine?" Nebula calmly, trailing over Gamora to the table. She grabbed a fruit from the table and took a giant bite out of it.

"Yeah...?" Rocket looked suspiciously at her. 

"Hm." Rocket gaped. "You can't just drop a hint then just say nothing! That's dick move!"

"I am Groot." Groot said with a chiding sound. 

"I don't care if she 'technically says hm'!"

"I am Groot." Groot sighed, gesturing a few times towards Nebula, Peter, and Drax. And pointing out the cracks and bent from the table. "I am Groot."

"Oh are you fucking kidding me?" He looked accusingly at Peter's direction, who'd just came back from the direction of the fridge.

"What? What did I miss?"

"You and our giant friend over there having sex in the kitchen, that's what! Gross, Quill! I eat on this table everyday."

He groaned. "Drax, you bastard. Did you tell them?"

Drax, who poke his head out from behind the cupboard shook his head. "Groot told them. And did you forget about Rocket's sense of smell? Of course they will notice immediately."

"Christ." He could feel his face reddened to his neck. "Is it better if I say it was an accident?"

"Obviously, I'll forget anything ever happen, Quill, cause you're my best-est friend." Rocket said. "Of course not, you dumbo! Clean it up, spray air disinfectant. Scrub the table clean, I don't care."

"The thing didn't even hit—"

"I  _don't_  care. It better be spotless clean and smelling of something  _other_  than sweat and cum when I get back." And the door slammed shut, with Groot trailing behind a pissed-off Rocket.

He looked at the other helplessly, but Gamora just smirked in amusement, Nebula calmly drinking her tea, and Drax eating the grilled meat he just cooked while his other hand gripping Peter's in a possessive grip.

Peter sighed. He better get used to it, cause it seemed that this was his life now.

 ---------

The thing was, Drax was the one who got...weird after it all. Don't get him wrong, they did have  _fantastic_  sex, regularly, several  times a day, in fact. But weirdly enough, Drax never want to have sex more than four times. No matter him still leaving Peter hanging. Or himself still with his goddamn cock hard enough that his pants tented over, after four times of Peter coming, he...stopped. Just like that.

So that one time, on the hallway, after he got the best blowjob he had ever got in his entire 30something life, when Drax pulled Peter's hand of his cock, his brain re-starting and noticed that, yes, this was his fourth time coming, and Drax being odd, again. "You're bored of me or something?" He said, a little pissed off. It hadn't even a week yet. 

"Of course not. Why would you think that?"

He dared to be the one who frowned instead? "Um, maybe because you stopped at the number four every time we had sex?"

"I, uh." He looked visibly torn. "I do not want you to die because of the inability to control my sexual desire." Drax said it a little loud. Which was the exact moment Kraglin rounded the corner of the hallway. He was visiting back after his trip to the Ravager's ship. The poor man looked like he definitely didn't want to get caught in any of their problem.

"Pretend I was never here." He said, slowly walked back. Peter could hear the footstep of him running as fast as he could down the hallway and into the cockpit. Great. That was awkward. "You know," he started, putting both of his palm into Drax's cheeks. "Sometimes human say the word 'literally'...figuratively."

He inclined his head in a puzzled tilt. "Humans. What an odd creatures."

"Yeah, you don't need to tell  _me_  about it."

 ---------

A trip to hand get their bounty over a criminal they caught ended up with a trip to the most amazing banquet Peter had ever attended. The food was wild. Every single dishes from all the races in the galaxy (yes, even human's) was there, and Peter groaned in delight as his tongue finally got in touch once again with the rich, savoury taste of a double-decker burger, accompanied with a cold and sweet coke. When he turned his head, searching for Drax to get him to taste how amazing Earth's food was, he was confronted with a scene that made his fingers clenched unconsciously around the plastic glass of the coke.

Drax, surrounded by women in a planet where physical fitness was the strongest point for mating. They kept touching the bare muscles of Drax and it took every single shred of his will not to shoot those women in the head.  _Deep breath, Peter._

Jealousy was beneath him, he kept the mantra in his head, to prevent another civil war to happen because of him.

When they finally got back, Drax seemed to sense something was wrong and approached Peter. For someone with the densest social censor the in the universe (probably, Peter hasn't check, but he was pretty sure of it), Drax got a scary on-point sense about him in particular.

"Something made you unhappy. Tell me." He said earnestly. 

Have he said how weak he was against those eyes? He said something, unwilling to talk directly about it, and kept spinning the words over and over until Drax pursed his lips and just said, " _Peter_."

Alright, time for the confession. "The point is, I might be a little...jealous of the women back then."

"Why would you be jealous? You and I have mated. It matters not if I was in the presence of another. The holy bind of matrimony can only be separated by death."

"Oh my god." Peter buried his face in his palms. "I told you not to call this a marriage." he said exasperated, while Rocket snickered in the background.

"I bet you're the wife in the relationship. You sure fit the profile."

"And what is that?" He said, unimpressed.

"Naggy and short."

"Fuck you.  _You're_  shorter than me!"

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who's in a relationship with a hulking giant."

Peter raised one of his eyebrows at the spot beside Rocket with intent. Groot was munching on a fruit that grew from a potted alien plant Rocket bought for his birthday. "I am Groot?"

"Alright." Rocket conceded. "But I'm not  _married_  to him."

"But that's the thing. Me and Drax aren't married! And even if we do, I am  _not_  the freaking wife!" He looked at Drax for backup. The alien shrugged. "If we are to use the Earth's terminology for our relationship, then Peter should be the husband and not the wife. We would both be the husband." Peter nodded proudly, smirking to Rocket. "However, he added, using the profiling theory, Peter would be my wife, since I am taller and bigger than him."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Thanks, buddy. Really feeling your support here." Sometimes Drax's honestly felt really brutal.

"You are welcome."

"It was sarcasm!" He hit his forehead on the table. "If you're my husband, then you're supposed to back me up, man!"

Drax inclined his head. "Like that time I back you up against the wall while I put—"

"Whoa,  _whoa_.  TMI, dude!" Rocket moved to the faraway corner while covering his ears.

"See what I've to put up with?" Peter gestured to Drax. "Told you the thing you said about Gamora and Nebula's too private to—"

"The  _what?_ " Gamora finally snapped. Hands gripping the edge of her sheathed sword, ready for action. "Ah, shit."

Nebula just shrugged beside her, eating a fruit to her heart's content. "Sex is sex wherever and whenever you do it."

Drax nodded. "That, I agree my friend." 

She looked sharply at a hand on her shoulder. "Don't touch me. You're not my friend."

"Are you doubting the sincerity of my words, friend?" Drax stood, curling his fist. He took a nearby fruit, the one that looks like tomato, and hurled it into Nebula's direction. It missed, and landed with a squelch on Gamora's head.

Fuck.

"How  _dare_  you." And it was Nebula, of all people who growled, grabbing another fruit and readying against her upcoming 'battle' with Drax. "Only _I_  can attempt to kill Gamora."

Gamora herself just wiping the fruit's juice out of her hair calmly. Until Rocket throw another one on her head. "Food fight!"

Yep, they were all gonna die soon, he thought, as he crawled beneath the table in fear of the horrible death by food fight. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Fucking headache was coming in already. He felt a wooden hand gently touched his shoulder. Groot was hiding under the table with him, god knows why. "I am Groot." He said softly.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're sayin' man."

"I am Groot." He gestured towards Drax. "I am Groot." He nodded in understanding, touching his chest as if in sympathy.

"Awwwh are you trying to cheer me up?"

It was Rocket who laughed after chucking a banana peel on Nebula's feet, watching her falling not-so-gracefully on the floor."You idiot!" Drax, who laughed with him got the brunt of the force of Nebula's electric shot-gun while the raccoon done the acrobatic jump with ease. "He said, 'I'm sorry you got hitched to an asshole. If you need any help to get rid of him, call me'."

Drax roared from the floor, charging right to Groot's direction. "How dare you seduce my husband, you dumb tree!"

"Oh my god."

He got lost in the food fight but in the end, they all silently apologise and forgive each other without words. And that was what he liked. They fight, they threatened, punch each other in the face, but at the end of the day, they  _were_  a family.

And family had each other's back.

(Probably, he thought)

(Seeing Rocket put a 'please kick me I'm such an idiot' behind Drax's back)

(Groot was signalling how dead Rocket would be when Drax found out with a shook of his head and an exasperated 'I am Groot'. At least that was what he  _thought_  he said anyway.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm...so sorry. I have no excuse about this, except that I spent the whole movie basically thinking of "How sensitive is his nipples?"
> 
> Not edited yet. Would probably ninja edit this later when I have time. Or maybe after I finished my multiple chapter fic like I'm supposed to, instead of making a cracky fanfic. Ha ha. Shit. 
> 
> Peter's comment based of this Chris Pratt's interview about Dave Bautista's biceps (yum) : http://mashable.com/2017/04/26/guardians-of-the-galaxy-vol-2-chris-pratt-dave-bautista-props/


End file.
